Burning Desire
by toomuchchampagne
Summary: He's a ghost, haunting her. But between her arms the man comes back to life. Oliver/Thea Queencest OS


Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. And the song Burning Desire belongs to Lana del Rey, she's a queen and I love her.

A/N: So I wrote this last night after reading poesy all day, so it may be a little weird, as I was heavily influenced by what I was reading, yet I'm by no stretch of mind a poet. So it may have gotten a little out of hand with the metaphore thing (like I said, not a poet).

I hope it's still good though. Let me know what you think in the reviews :)

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Burning Desire

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_"Your hands were on my hips, your name is on my lips_  
_ Over over again, like my only prayer_  
_ Come on tell me boy_  
_ I got a burning desire for you, baby_  
_ I got a burning desire"_

Burning Desire, by Lana Del Rey

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His sleep was restless. When the sun came down he gave himself up to the night, to the city, his city. He had no time for sleep. No time for girls. No time for love. Only the promise he made to his father mattered.

By day, he was just as restless. Awake, all his senses were hyper-aware under the mask he forced himself to wear. This mask was heavy like a crown and turned all his words into lies, but it was the price to pay. It was worth it, he told himself day after day.

The biggest lies were always the one you told yourself. Oliver knew a thing or two about that.

There were other lies he repeated to himself every day. Like the one he told himself when he crept into Thea's room at night and hid in the shadow like a ghost, watching her sleep. It's just to make sure she's safe asleep. It's just to be sure, he would whisper to himself in the secret of the night. _It's my job to make sure she's okay, it's what big brother do_. But no matter how many times he told himself that he was simply watching over her, it did not change the way he was watching her.

He was a ghost in the night, haunting what he had lost, and what he could never have, watching with envy her body so full of life.

In his rare dreams, she would open her eyes and scream, when she found him in her room. Only then would he realize that he was a ghost, dead and hideous. But nothing is the same as it is in dreams, and when she finally caught him hiding in the shadow she only smiled sleepily and asked him to get closer.

In a dreamy haze, her words a happy mess of emotions, of _Ollie, where were you Ollie? Come closer, I miss you. I love you Oliver, don't ever leave me again. Come, sleep, I want you close so I'll know you won't disappear again. Where are you always disappearing off to? I'm sorry, sorry for everything. I miss you, I'm scared, but you're here now, so it's okay. Remember when we would play hide and seek, and I would run around the house looking for you all day to find out, that you were hiding in my room? And remember when you taught me how to swim?_

And she took him in her bed. She got him to lay by her side and rested her head on his chest before stumbling back into her dreams. Her sleep was so deep he didn't understand how she had woken up in the first place. Her eyes were shut, her body went slack, her chest moving to the rhythm of her regular breathing. Her head was a weight, trapping him down by her side, and a blessing, allowing him to relax and accept the intimacy and contact she had offered him.

Yet he couldn't. He was too nervous, and didn't know where to put his hands. The fabric covering her was too thin and her skin too soft. His callous hands had no place on her precious skin, he realized. Thea might have fancied herself a bad girl, but she was still pure and untouched in so many ways, he did not want to taint her.

His nervous shifting woke Thea up as quickly as she had fallen asleep.

"Ollie, what's wrong? Are you leaving?"

It broke his heart to see how scared she was.

"No," he said, and brushed her hair in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "Go back to sleep. It's fine."

"OK, good. You shouldn't leave. I like having you here. In my room. Next to me. I never mind it, you know. Never have, never will. Not when you use to hide there, not when you come here at night, thinking you're so sneaky…" her voice trailed off in a yawn, as if it was nothing, but for Oliver it felt like a jolt of electricity shook his whole body.

"You know about that?" he asked, stunned.

"Yeah, of course I do."

"And you never said anything?"

"Well I like having you around. I didn't want to scare you away."

She seemed so calm, on top of him, and he was a mess. His world was shook to the core, and his heart was erratic, beating way too fast and he was sure she could hear it, feel it. Yet she wasn't running away from him. She didn't seem scared like she had been earlier, when she thought he was leaving. No, instead she smiled.

"You mean you don't mind?"

"No. I like having you here. Near me," she said, her hand stroking his chest as if to prove her point. "I like the way you watch me."

Something in the way she said it made his whole body resonate, eclipsing any possible shame he could have of being find out. He felt exposed, in a way he had never experienced before. He was at her mercy, unable to think or move, and he loved it.

She bent down and pressed her lips against his. They were soft and warm, and he felt himself responding to her kiss before he even knew it. He felt the desire slowly burning for so long in the shadows of his soul finally set ablaze, and he watched Thea burn for him.

She was in control, leading the fire with her lips and fingertips, and he was imprisoned by the flames. He hadn't known you could burn in heaven too. Too bad that after that, he was going to hell.

She played with the flames of his desire like a sculptor with clay. Every kiss and touch was a masterpiece, turning their bodies into art.

She was so beautiful in the dark, smiling and her eyes burning. He wanted this moment to last forever, to be carved in stone and time, but he knew he had to stop her.

He had a cold stone arrowhead in place of his heart, he knew. The bright smile and warm flesh of Thea were not enough to make it melt and she was more likely to be left hurt and wounded if she reached for his heart.

She saw this, his hesitation, his fear, his struggle.

"I know what I'm doing Ollie," she said. "Don't be scared, not for me. Let me take care of you for once."

She smiled and touched his face and he couldn't say no. He let her kiss him once more and take off his shirt. He already felt naked under her stare, he failed to see what it would change. But she surprised him once again, making him feel beautiful and loved under her warm gaze and as she hid the scars covering his body under kisses.

So he gave himself up to the fire, he gave himself up to her. In her arms, inside her, the ghost came back to life, brought back by her moans and screams as she called his name.

He had been made into a machine. A body made to kill, not love. But hers, her soft and oh-so-fragile and small frame was made for love. To be loved. And with some magic that belonged only to her, she turned his weaponized-body into bleeding feeling loving flesh again. Behind the hardened surface, his heart woke up, and started beating again-beating to another tune than the one of gunshot and drums-the music of love.

He came back to her a broken man.

And in her arms, for the first time, he found peace.

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Hope you liked it, leave me a review and let me know what you think!


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